


take me to your river (my heart’s been far from you)

by winterpolis



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Female Empowerment, Original Character(s), and bonds and talks to lots of people, and katara does a lot of self-discovery, but eventual happy ending ofc, katara-centric, lots of angst and pining, zuko is a supportive lover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterpolis/pseuds/winterpolis
Summary: Katara is afraid of love.—;“I love you, Katara.” His voice is soft, his eyes softer—without fear or expectation, just relief and the depth of his heart worn on his sleeve.She wants to tell him she loves him, too, but instead, what comes out of her mouth is this: “I’m so sorry, Zuko.”
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 105





	take me to your river (my heart’s been far from you)

**Author's Note:**

> took a break from writing _our lives, they rearrange_ to get this plot bunny out of my system. ended up taking more than a month to write this behemoth of a oneshot, woops. everything you need to know is in the tags, so enjoy this long and winding journey with me. they'll get their happy ending, i promise.

In the end, it boils down to this: Zuko loves her too much, and that scares her.

Katara’s not scared of him (maybe once upon a time, many moons ago, but not now, never now) nor of his love (quite the opposite, really). It’s _how much_ he loves her that has her curling up on herself and running for the shadows of the moon.

Here, in his mother’s garden, Yue’s ethereal light illuminates him in all the ways that make her painfully aware of this.

 _A fighter, not just lucky. Beautiful, even if scarred_.

It’s a little over two months since Ozai’s fall, and already, the world is asking to break apart their little family so they can each help to rebuild and to maintain the fragile peace where they can. The world is teetering on the balance, and they have to move.

In her periphery, her eyes follow his arm as it reaches out to right a turtleduckling that’s found itself on its back. He does so with a content smile on his face, and she can’t help the way it takes her breath away.

This is the quiet before the storm, and Katara holds tightly to the tender moment. She knows what’s coming next will bring her far from here—far from Zuko and the ways he makes her simultaneously feel grounded and displaced all at once. It’s been lingering in the air since he first opened his eyes after she brought him back from the dead, and she prays to the Spirits for a divine intervention.

_Anything but this. This over everything._

His warm hand closes over her fisted one where it lays on her lap, and she slowly turns her head to face him. The Spirits don’t seem inclined to stop what is coming. A small part of Katara reflects on how, had their lives unfolded differently, her reaction to _this_ would be vastly different. But such thoughts are useless. An unanswered prayer is an answer in itself, Gran Gran used to say.

In the space between her breath and his, she sees the quiet resolve in his eyes burn, just like it always has. This is Zuko: steadfast and constant and true. The most honorable man she knows, with the purest of hearts and the brightest of eyes. He has always been brave, even when he stared tyrants and maniacs and death in the face, and he’s not about to start running away now, not when his world is teetering on the balance, and he must make a move.

Time blurs for but a single moment, then sharpens to a pinprick as the words escape his lips in a reverent sigh.

“I love you, Katara.”

His voice is soft, his eyes softer—without fear or expectation, just relief and the depth of his heart worn on his sleeve. Hers slows to a halt at the same time her blood rushes through her veins in torrents so strong, she thinks she might explode.

She knows it to be true: he gave up everything when he took his sister’s lightning to the chest for her, and she knew it even before then. He has always loved her, steadfast and constant and true, even when he didn’t know it and even when he didn’t want to show it. He will always love her, she knows, even when she’s ninety, wrinkly, and gray and old.

She wants to tell him she loves him, too. More than she thought it possible to love another, more than she could possibly bear. The love she has for him runs just as deep as his, and she no longer knows what life is like without him. And that terrifies her.

Because for a moment that lasted for an eternity in her grief-stricken soul, she _had_ known what life without him was like. And it was a darkness she had felt only one other time in her life. Holding his rapidly cooling body in her arms in the middle of that courtyard, she pushed at the gaping hole in his chest with all the strength and power her bending could grant her. She had no spirit water to aid her, just despair and desperation. She didn’t know if it would be enough, but it had to, because she couldn’t bear it if it wasn’t.

( _I can’t do this without you. Don’t leave me, too. You promised._ )

She wants to tell him all of this, but she also wants to tell him that she doesn’t know _how_. She can’t begin to form the words, not because she doesn’t want to (because she does, she really, really does), but because she _can’t_. Because if she says it back and gives it anchor to tether her soul to his, it will make it real. And if it is real, it will make her vulnerable.

She wants to tell him she loves him, but instead, what comes out of her mouth is this:

“I’m so sorry, Zuko.”

Her world is teetering on a balance, too, and so she makes her move.

_Run, run, run, run, run—_

* * *

**_I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,_ **

**_or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off._ **

**_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_ **

**_in secret, between the shadow and the soul._ **

****

**_I love you as the plant that never blooms,_ **

**_but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers._ **

**_Thanks to your love, a certain solid fragrance_ **

**_risen from the earth lives darkly in my body._ **

* * *

In the week that follows before her departure from Caldera City, Katara only sees Zuko during mealtimes and meetings. She keeps out of his hair, and he does not attempt to seek her out. She knows he wants to talk about what happened, wants to ask her why she ran, but she also knows Zuko knows her like no other, and he knows she needs her space. For that, she’s grateful, if a little bit despondent because there will be no one else like him. Already, her soul is heavy and torn.

They no longer spar or take nightly walks in his mother’s garden, and she doesn’t bug him in his office when he’s stayed holed up too long. She doesn’t sneak out with him in the dead of night, cloaked in black and masks, and the weight of their disrupted pattern of ease and camaraderie feels like losing a limb. They are pleasant and civil in the presence of the others, and no one mentions the palpable shift in their relationship. But she know: brows are raised and whispers take place behind raised hands. She ignores them all with a passion.

On the afternoon before she leaves (walks out of his life but still surrenders her heart to this unholy land), Toph finds her in the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Without a word, the earth bender plops herself by Katara’s side and leans against the trunk, hands folded behind the nape of her neck.

“Sparky told you, huh?”

Katara twists the fabric of her Fire Nation skirt, tired and weary and sad. “Yes.”

Toph hums. “And you didn’t tell him back, even if you do.”

There’s no malice or accusation in the younger girl’s tone, just a plain statement of facts that somehow still bristles at Katara’s bruised heart.

“Yes,” she whispers, smoothing her fingers against the fabric this time.

Toph says nothing more, and an understanding silence settles in between them like a third companion.

Katara closes her eyes, listening to the way the wind cards its fingers through the leaves with a gentle caress, and she allows herself to relax.

“It’s difficult,” she eventually confesses, “for me.”

“I know.” The younger girl pauses, thinking her words through carefully. “And he does, too.”

 _He knows me better than I know myself_.

“Is it selfish of me? To not have said it even when I do, too?”

“No.” Sightless eyes turn to her. “Sparky already knows you do, even if you can’t _say_ it, Sugar Queen.” Toph’s gentle tone surprises her. “He didn’t say it so you would say it back. He said it because you deserve to hear it, especially from him, and especially when you can’t say it back but want to.”

Katara’s lips wobble, even as she chuckles at Toph’s shoulder punch.

“Those words are yours and yours alone. You don’t owe them to anyone but yourself.”

A strong surge of affection washes over Katara, and she throws her arms around Toph in a polar bear hug. Despite the Blind Bandit’s protests, she only squeezes harder.

“Thank you.”

Toph sighs but squeezes back just as hard.

Overhead, the horizon is painted with the setting of Agni’s sun, bathing their friendship in an ephemeral afterglow.

* * *

The winds are strong on the morning of her departure.

Goodbyes wrapped in tears and laughter were exchanged an hour ago in the palace, the end of an era bittersweet and quick. Promises were made to keep in touch and to see each other soon, but they all knew that the latter would be harder to see through. Aang flew out to the Earth Kingdom with Toph and Suki in tow not long after, and now, it was her and Sokka’s turn.

Standing before the gangplank of her father’s newly refurbished boat, Katara breathes in the heat and spice of the Fire Nation one last time before turning to the familiarity of salty air and open seas.

_Home. I wonder how much has changed since Sokka and I left._

She’s just about to begin her ascent on the gangplank when a gentle but firm grasp wraps around her wrist.

Katara gasps quietly. She knows that warmth, knows it very well. Her eyes slide closed.

_Of course he waits until the last moment, the drama king._

Once she collects herself enough to face him, she turns around with an impassive face (it doesn’t really work—her eyes have always been an expressively open book).

Zuko stands before her in all of his Fire Lord regalia, and he is a sight to behold. This is who he was born to be, and this is who he has gracefully become in just a matter of weeks.

_I’m so, so proud of you._

The breath hitches in her throat, and again when she meets the intensity in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does she, but she can see all the words trying to crawl out of his mouth swirling in the depths of those golden eyes.

A bone-deep ache seizes her chest.

 _I already miss you_.

The breeze carries the sounds of the last of her tribesmen’s preparations down to them. Their time together is ticking closed.

Zuko draws a deep breath and suddenly, the storm in his eyes settle into a low, gentle fire. A small smile curls at the corner of his lips, and then—

“I love you, Katara.”

He says it so firmly and so resolutely, it makes her heart swell to the brimming with happiness. But like Sokka’s boomerang, it comes around and hits her with a ten-ton boulder of sadness, too.

Zuko must see it in her eyes, because the fire in his flickers. He gently takes her hand in his, the other reaching up to cup her cheek.

A whimper makes its way out of her, and she presses her skin closer to his where they meet.

“I already know, Katara.” The Fire Lord smiles softly, confirming what Toph told her. “So you don’t have to say it back. Not then—” the first time he said it flashes through both their minds, “—not now, and not until you’re ready. I just wanted you to know, for however long it will take, I’ll be waiting. I know you’re scared, and I am, too.” A strangled chuckle gets caught in his words. “But I promise you—I’m not going anywhere.”

The earnestness in his eyes and the love so clearly painted in his voice unravels the ties holding her together, and her soul aches to be joined with his. But she can’t.

She can’t, she can’t, she can’t—

“Zuko,” his name rolls off her tongue like a prayer, and she begs Tui and La to answer.

_Why is this so difficult?_

“I can’t. Not now.” Breaking away from his gaze, she gathers a fortifying breath and tries her best to explain. “The world needs you, needs me. There’s so much to do, and I could never just sit back and do nothing.” Closing her eyes, she whispers, “And I can’t…”

The beginnings of a restrained sob escapes her lips, the force of her admission crushing her heart to a pulp.

_I will not cry. I will not break. Not yet._

But Zuko— _Zuko_.

He cups her face with both hands now and runs the calloused pads of his thumbs on the apples of her cheeks. “I know, love, I know. I would never keep you from those who need you most.”

They make no mention of what’s left unsaid. _Even if I need you, too._

The fire in his eyes flare, and she holds her breath, knowing only heartbreak in the sweetest of ways will follow that smolder.

“I know you can’t, Katara. But I can. So I’ll say it enough for the both of us until you can, too. I love you. I loved you yesterday, I love you today, and I’ll love you tomorrow. I’ll love you even in the afterlife, and I’ll love you in the next life, too. Nothing will change that.”

She’s pretty sure they’re both crying at this point, but with his forehead now pressed against hers, she isn’t sure where his tears begin and hers end. Here is the man she loves, his heart sacrificed at the altar of hers. He asks for nothing, willingly letting her go, and it suddenly strikes her that she doesn’t know how _she_ ’s supposed to let go.

So she throws her arms around him and buries her face in the crook of his neck, hoping he understands what she’s trying to say in this one move that she can’t with her words.

_Thank you. I love you. I love you. I love you—_

His arms wrap just as tightly around her, and he presses a line of sweet kisses all over her head and along her hairline.

From the boat’s helm, Bato directs the crew with final instructions for their departure in a minute.

Zuko pulls away just enough to bring his hands back to her cheeks, and he meets her gaze with a settled smile.

“Come back to me when you’re ready.”

At a loss for words, Katara merely nods her head.

He presses a last, lingering kiss to her forehead and urges her up the gangplank, the words still echoing in her ears. Once she’s safely on board and the ropes have been cut, she turns to look back at him, if only a little frantically. Her brother and father come to stand on either side of her, their presence grounding her where she might have collapsed otherwise. If they witnessed the emotional parting between she and Zuko, they make no mention of it and she’s immensely grateful.

“Goodbye, Fire Lord Zuko,” her father says with pride, a genuine smile on his lips and a fond twinkle in his eyes.

“I’ll be seeing ya, Jerkbender. Don’t forget to send me fire flakes! And letters!” Sokka calls, one arm waving enthusiastically in farewell at his best friend.

Zuko laughs at that, and her heart swells at the sight. As the Water Tribe boat begins to sail, he bows deeply, his fist pressed against an open palm.

“Until the Spirits bring you to these shores again, Chief Hakoda, Master Sokka, and Master Katara.”

When he stands upright, he meets her gaze, and she sees all the love in the world reflected in them. He gives her one last brilliant smile, and it’s all she sees until he’s but a speck on the horizon.

And if the waters are harsh and rocky the whole way home, in tune with the ways her heart is breaking and mending itself, no one says a thing.

* * *

Katara spends a year rebuilding her home.

Returning to the icy tundra after months and months away from it was a cathartic homecoming she didn’t realize she needed until she stepped foot on the snow and breathed in the frigid air. Everything was just as she left it, and she didn’t know if that made her relieved or disappointed.

Gran Gran had come running to the edge of the village as soon as she’d caught sight of Hakoda’s boat, and Katara couldn’t hold the tears back as she was wrapped up in her grandmother’s loving arms. This is why they fought to end the war: so people could come home to their families and be together, so they would never have to be apart or miss a loved one’s embrace ever again.

Only weeks after their return, Pakku and a delegation from the Northern Water Tribe landed on their shores, offering the help, support, and kinship that had been absent for so long in decades past. The decision to turn them away or to accept them was supposed to fall on Hakoda’s shoulders as Chief, but to no one’s surprise, he looked to Kanna as their matriarch instead.

(There was a saying in the South Pole that goes: a family is only as strong as the woman who carries it on her shoulders.)

Katara was reminded of how vastly different the Northern and Southern Water Tribes were, most of all with regards to how the women were treated. Not for the first time, she found herself grateful that she was a Southerner through and through.

Kanna welcomed Pakku and his delegation with little preamble—they were married now, after all—and a feast was thrown in the newcomers’ honor. Under the twinkling lights and the cheer of the festivities— _how long has it been since the sound of laughter rather than a perpetual cloud of fear and uncertainty hung in the air?_ —Katara felt her soul ease and brighten.

_Tonight is for gratitude and joy. Tomorrow, the work begins._

Over the course of the next few months, the tribe worked tirelessly to rebuild and to reconnect with the outside world.

A Council of Elders with Hakoda as Chief was reestablished, as was their tribe’s customs from before the war, and Katara was a little too pleased to see the shock in the Northerner’s faces when the women were permitted to take up a seat for themselves on the Council. Ten seats were in vacancy, excluding the three that immediately went to Hakoda, as well as to Kanna and Pakku as senior members of the tribe and the Northern delegation, respectively. Sokka took a seat of his own as his father’s heir, as did Katara, and Bato took a third as the Chief’s second-in-command. The rest of the seats were filled quickly, and the Council was up and running within a day. By the time talks with other nations began to make their way to the tribe, it was running effortlessly.

When she wasn’t in council meetings, Katara spent a lot of time in the healing hut with Kanna and the healers that had come with the delegation. There were lots of scars and recurring ailments that bothered most of the warriors from their years on the warfront, and her days were filled with reacquainting herself with medicinal herbs and healing techniques.

Soon though, she found that playing the role of healer was not enough. She was a master water bender first and foremost, the last of her tribe, and that was a part of her she couldn’t simply turn off. And so, when a young girl named Amka suddenly showed signs of being gifted with the same power that flowed through Katara’s veins on her fifth birthday, four months after they had settled back home, the war heroine implored the Council for an opportunity to open a bending school right here in their tribe. Amka wouldn’t be the only water bender to present, Katara reasoned, although how she knew this she wasn’t entirely too sure. At any rate, benders from their sister tribe could make their way here, too, especially with both Katara and Pakku in residence once more.

It had taken a lot of convincing, especially with the Northerners averse to the idea of a bending school run by a woman, with her only pupil for the foreseeable future a girl. Katara’s wrath had fallen upon them with the strength of the ocean, and she reminded them that while such restrictions were permissible in the North, in the South, they didn’t hold. She took great pride in the fact that the bending school was established in the center of the village the very next day.

Amka was a joy to teach. She was eager, excited, and easily picked up on the bending forms Katara guided her through. What Katara loved the most about the girl, however, was how she laughed in the face of challenges and trouble. Nothing could bring her down, it seemed. She didn’t pout or throw a tantrum like most children her age would have at the prospect of failing, instead frowning for but a moment, as if in thought, before turning to her teacher with wide eyes.

“Again, Master!” she would cheer, and Katara would only happily oblige.

This is why they rebuilt their nations: so the younger generations could live in a world not ravaged by fear, anger, and divide, so that the children could be nurtured and given all the opportunities they deserved. They rebuilt so that wounds could heal and new chapters could be written, right over where tragedy and strife carved themselves into their lands.

Today, the Southern Water Tribe is a far cry from how it looked like when she was growing up. No longer a measly village with just her brother’s poor attempts at a snow fortress surrounding it, it is now a growing city fortified with a proper port and beautifully intricate (and more welcoming) outer walls that could rival its sister tribe’s. The tents and igloos she’d lived in all her life have been slowly replaced with sturdier homes made out of ice, and the people are happier than they have been in a century. Healthy trade has been established with the other nations thanks to Sokka’s penchant for politics and Hakoda’s leadership, and it has allowed a small but flourishing market to open by the port. Life was beginning to settle in the South Pole, yet somehow, an itch she couldn’t explain tickled Katara’s bones.

Sitting on the steps of her bending school, Katara is lost in her thoughts when Sokka bounds his way over to her, Hawky perched dutifully on his shoulder. Since their reunion, the two have been inseparable. The messenger hawk now dons the Southern Water Tribe’s symbol instead of the Fire Nation’s, and he has also been outfitted with a tiny parka-vest to keep him warm in the Pole’s cooler climate.

“Hey, Katara!” Sokka takes a seat beside her, fingers nimbly untying the canister on Hawky’s back. “Your monthly subscription has arrived.”

She rolls her eyes with a small smile, but nonetheless feels her throat go dry as the rolled up parchment makes its way from Sokka’s hand to hers. Although she never said it, brother and sister were aware that this was the time of the month Katara looked forward to the most.

Zuko had been writing her a letter thrice a month ever since they left Caldera City (four sometimes if he could spare the time), detailing the ongoings in the Fire Nation. Most of it was about the politics of the court: reparation talks, rebuilding efforts, trade negotiations, tax reforms, and even frustrations with ministers. As much as Sokka had an eye for politics, Katara had one for diplomacy and finance. When they had all been traveling together, Zuko had confided in her some of the more problematic parts of his country’s government. In turn, she had given him a few points to consider on how to restructure his court and budgetary system without causing an uproar. It had amazed him then, and it seemed to have left enough of an impression on him to continue seeking her input now. Formal talk aside, Zuko always made sure to write a good deal about his life, too: Iroh’s court advices and latest shenanigans, Azula’s therapy, and his ongoing search for his mother. That last bit was always her favorite, having become invested in his search just as much as he was.

Quickly scanning the letter, Katara finds its contents to be much the same as always, except this time, Zuko included an anecdote from Toph’s most recent visit. Reading that bit aloud for Sokka to hear, they both have tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks by the time she finishes.

_She completely ruined the main dining hall, Katara. It is in complete shambles. The servants can’t go in there without tripping over the debris, and she refuses to fix it until I start signing proclamations as Fire Lord Sparky Poutypants. Can you believe the gall? If I didn’t love the little runt so much, I would have imprisoned her right away. Not that it would do any good. She’d just metal bend herself out of there and then destroy the throne room, too, in revenge. What am I going to do with her?_

She could hear the exasperation and fondness in Zuko’s words, and not for the first time since coming home, a warmth and tightness simultaneously blossom in her chest. She misses him terribly, but she doesn’t regret leaving the Fire Nation shores a year ago. So much good has happened here in that span of time, and she knows only more will transpire in the years to come. With Toph’s encouragement and the reassurance Zuko gave her right before she left Caldera, she has learnt, with time, to stop agonizing over not being able to say the words back, too.

As is her habit, Katara’s eyes seek out the three words at the bottom of the page. When she finds it, the tightness eases into a dull throb, and a small smile lifts the corner of her lips. He always signs his letters in affirmation of his love for her, as if knowing she would need it, given that she never writes him back. Call it a means of self-preservation, but she leaves Sokka to the life updates and her responses to Zuko’s political queries whenever her brother wrote the Fire Lord—and that was quite often. Those two are as thick as thieves, and a consistent barrage of fire flakes and seal jerky are delivered back and forth by Hawky between the two nations more often than it is healthy.

“Gonna write him back this time?”

Sokka’s teasing voice breaks her reverie.

Sighing, Katara rolls the letter back up and tucks it carefully in the small leather satchel by her side. Fishing the tiger shark tooth necklace Amka had given her this morning as “a gift for Master Katara’s Fire Lord” out of her satchel (the girl still needed work with her identifying skills, but Katara wasn’t about to correct her when it sounded just about right to the master water bender’s ears anyway, even if she would never admit it out loud), Katara shook her head.

“Not today.”

Her brother hums contemplatively beside her. “You’re gonna need a bigger box soon at the rate he’s writing.”

That earns a chuckle from her. “I know. I was thinking of just folding instead of rolling them back up. That way I won’t need a new one.”

Sokka nods his head in approval. “It _is_ a one-of-a-kind box.”

Katara grins and elbows him hard enough to earn a wince. “Of course you’d say that. _You_ carved it.”

On her eighteenth birthday, Sokka had gifted her with the most beautiful box made out of whale bone. _To keep your prized possessions_ , he had said, and it brought tears to her eyes and an overwhelming surge of love for her brother. Zuko’s letters had immediately found a home in the box the very same day, and Sokka smirked knowingly when he had discovered so.

“Nothing but the best for my little sister.”

His answering smile is wolfish as he pulls her into a headlock, ruffling her hair despite her squeals and laughter.

When he finally lets her go, he cocks his head at her, mirth still dancing in his eyes. “And what should I be sending the Jerkbender this time?”

For what she couldn’t put down in words of her own, Katara made up for in tokens he might find useful and trinkets that reminded her of him or their travels. Turning to Sokka, she drops the necklace onto his palm. “From Amka. She says, ‘Hello, Fire Lord Zuko. Thanks for being my friend. When will you come visit me?’”

Her brother lets out a deep belly laugh. “She’s your pupil, alright. The audacity is uncannily similar.”

Katara grins widely, something akin to pride beating in her chest.

When the little water bender had found out about her master’s correspondence with the Fire Lord, she had immediately written a letter of her own to be sent back with Katara’s gift. Katara could still remember it word for word, including the ones her pupil had hilariously misspelt.

_Dear Fire Lord Zuko,_

_Hi! My name is Amka. I’m five and Master Katara teaches me water bending. She’s so cool! I want to be just like her when I grow up. Master says that unlike the prevus_ (previous) _Fire Lords, you’re nice and honble_ (honorable) _and dorky. What’s dorky? Master also says that you are one of the best people she knows. Can we be frens_ (friends) _? I promise I won’t give you cooties like my brother Inuksuk says I might. Because I don’t have them, I promise. I’ll even give you a necklace!_

_Love, Amka_

To say that Zuko had been surprised by the additional missive was an understatement, but he had taken it in stride, writing back to Amka in his next letter. Since then, the spirited girl had been passing on messages of her own for Katara to relay to Zuko, and the two had formed some sort of friendship.

Tucking the necklace into his pocket, Sokka gives Katara a pensive look. “Want to tell me what had you so morose before I found you?”

She scowls. “I wasn’t morose.”

“Yes you were. Your face was all scrunched up like this—” Sokka attempts to imitate her ‘morose face’, but only ends up looking like a blown up otter penguin.

She huffs even as she feels a bubble of laughter spill out of her. “I do not look like that!”

Sokka chuckles. “Alright, maybe not like that. But seriously. What’s on your mind?” He bumps his shoulder to hers, and Katara takes a deep breath. She could never hide anything from her brother for too long.

“I was just thinking,” she began, eyes looking out at the people milling about. “If Dad would be amenable to letting me travel again.”

He stares at her unblinkingly for a moment before his brows furrow together. “Why?”

She sighs. “I’ve just been feeling restless lately. With the tribe up on its feet again and Amka’s training going well, I just thought… Maybe I could take some time to myself. Away.”

“Where do you plan to go?”

“I was thinking of heading North, actually. I want to further my healer training with Yugoda. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I’m sure that our men are not the only ones suffering from the after-effects of the war. They’re lucky to have our healers to help them, but what about the other nations?”

Katara can see the gears turning in Sokka’s mind. He’s always been the more practical and realistic one between the both of them, and she’s hoping he can understand and even agree to her plans. If he can, perhaps Hakoda will, too.

Eventually, he gives the nod she has been holding her breath over. “I guess you have a point. I’m assuming after you’ve mastered all there is to healing, you’ll immediately make your way to the Earth Kingdom?”

She tilts her head to the side in contemplation. “I haven’t thought that far ahead, but that makes logistical sense.”

Sokka sighs. “Dad’s not going to be happy about this, Katara. Neither will the Council. But I think you should go for it, if it will give you peace.”

Katara throws her arms around him, and they nearly topple off the steps.

Her brother squawks indignantly. “Geeze, Katara, ease up a bit!”

She only laughs in return.

* * *

Convincing her father and the Council to let her go to the North Pole is easier than she expected.

Hakoda isn’t too keen, just as Sokka had predicted, but he eventually looks at her with something like resignation and pride in his eyes.

“You’re eighteen now, Katara. You can decide on things for yourself. But I suppose if it’s my blessing you want, you have it.”

Katara hugs him in front of the Council without reservation, and despite the gasps and chuckles, Hakoda smiles and returns it warmly.

“I love you, pup.”

The affection in his voice sends tears prickling in Katara’s eyes.

“I love you, too, Dad. Thank you.”

Hakoda pulls away with a proud smile.

“Well,” Pakku says as she returns to her seat. He’s agreed to take over Amka’s lessons and running the bending school while she’s gone. “Yugoda will have her hands full with you, that’s for sure. I’ll write her to let her know of your impending arrival. And so she can prepare herself for the challenge you’ll be.”

Laughter breaks out in the session hall at her previous master’s jibe, and Katara smiles widely, knowing in her heart that this is the next right step for her in this new and changing world.

* * *

Her father sends her off with a feast.

Katara tries to tell him it is unnecessary, but Hakoda could not be dissuaded.

“You’re my only daughter, pup. It’s fitting to send you off this way.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs, but a part of her knows he’s trying to make up for lost time.

“Dad, I’m your _only_ daughter.”

When the Chief merely responds with a lopsided smile, Katara can’t find it in her heart to deny him this wish. Tui and La know how long it’s been since anything other than battle-hardened lines of sorrow, fear, and resistance have marred her father’s face.

And so, the day before her departure arrives with festivities and rituals of blessing and safe travels. The whole tribe outdoes itself with the preparations, and Katara can only smile happily and tear up a little at the love bestowed upon her.

This is how the South should always be. Joyous, carefree, together. Flourishing. Thriving. Living.

It is well past midnight by the time she stumbles into her room at her father’s house, Sokka in tow and munching on a bag of fire flakes.

“I can’t believe tomorrow’s the day,” he shakes his head, a wistful smile on his lips. “It feels like leaving with Aang all over again, except this time, I’m staying right here.”

Katara leans her head against his shoulder, nostalgic and suddenly somber despite the arctic wine bubbling in her chest with the evening’s cheer. “I know. Yugoda wrote Pakku back saying she didn’t think I would need to stay in the North for long to master healing. Apparently, I already know quite a lot, and my time in the healing hut with the Northern healers these past few months has already cut down what’s left to be learnt by at least half.”

Her brother snorts. “Of course. You’re the best water bender there is, Katara. Mastering healing too will be a piece of cake for you child wonder.”

“Thanks, Sokka.” A soft smile tugs on her lips, and against her better judgment, she plucks a handful of his treats and munches slowly.

“Are you all packed and ready to go?”

“Yeah. Just some essentials I haven’t thrown in the satchel just yet, but other than that, I’m as good as gone.”

Sokka sighs, eyes pooling with tenderness. “I’m gonna miss you, sis.”

She presses her forehead against the side of his neck in response, one arm wrapping loosely around his middle. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”

A comfortable silence finds them, each lost to their own thoughts. This is the first time they would be apart for an indefinite period, unsure of when they would next see each other. They have been connected at the hip since they were children, and even if they often get into petty squabbles, they love each other deeply in the way that can only be forged by familial bonds and living through a war together can.

To Sokka, Katara would always be the baby sister that cried for her big brother when she had nightmares. And to Katara, Sokka would always be the big brother she admiringly trailed around the village before her powers presented themselves. Katara’s impending departure is the first of many markers of them growing up and away from each other (but never apart, not even when they’re on their deathbeds), and neither is eager for sunrise to come just yet.

Just when Katara thinks that Sokka’s fallen asleep, he breaks the silence with a question that jolts her out of the melancholic trance they’ve slipped into.

“Hey, sis,” he trails off, and she hums in acknowledgement. “I need to know.”

“What is it?”

“You haven’t been in the South Pole this past year and headed to the North tomorrow because you’re running away, are you?”

He doesn’t need to clarify the carefully constructed ambiguity in his statement, and for once, Katara wishes her brother isn’t so perceptive.

Pulling away from his warmth, she levels him with a stare that often worked to her advantage when she didn’t want him prying. “That’s a complicated question, Sokka.”

The stare doesn’t work this time.

“I know. Which is why we need to discuss it.”

Katara sighs, mulling over the question she herself has been pondering every night since leaving Caldera City. She supposes now’s a good a time as any to get it all out in the open. She couldn’t run away forever (how ironic).

“The answer is yes and no. Of course I want to be here, helping our tribe and reunited with our family. I wouldn’t trade the past year for anything, and I don’t regret coming home.”

Sokka nods at her response to the first half of his question. He figured as much.

“And besides,” his sister continues, “I really do want to hone my healing skills and help all the people I can—it’s all I’ve wanted to do since we were kids.”

He chuckles softly, remembering her stint as the Painted Lady.

“There’s so much I want to do to help the world rebuild and heal, Sokka, and I can’t just sit back and be content with what I’ve already accomplished when I know there’s more work to be done out there.” She finds herself echoing the words she’d told _him_ a year ago. How quickly time flies.

“But if I’m being honest, sometimes I don’t even know the difference between going where I’m needed and—”

Seeing her swallow hard, he clasps a hand over hers in silent support and encouragement.

“—and leaving what _I_ need behind.”

Without missing a beat, he asks, “And what is it that you need?”

Katara looks away. “I don’t know.”

Sokka shakes his head. “None of that, baby sis. You know it and I know it.”

“If you know it, why do I still have to say it?” The water bender scowls and he raises a pointed brow.

“Because I know you. And I know that even if you know it, too, you’ve been denying it in an attempt to convince yourself otherwise all this time.”

With a groan, her shoulders slump and a pout forms on her lips. “Sometimes I hate you.”

A resounding laugh echoes in the room as Sokka wraps an arm around her. “C’mon now, Katara, it’s honesty hour.”

Silence drapes over them like a snug blanket, and he patiently waits for her to find the words.

“It’s not that I can’t live without him, okay?” Katara puffs up her cheeks and blows out the air slowly, her answer eventually coming in a roundabout fashion. “I can. I managed sixteen years without him just fine, I can manage the rest of my life just the same.”

“But?” Sokka hedges, drawing out the vowel almost playfully.

Her voice is small as she confesses, “But I don’t want to.” She takes a deep breath and traces the patterns stitched onto her blanket. “Somehow, he’s managed to become the one person I need in my life the most.”

Her brother smiles wryly. “Then what are you doing all the way on the other side of the world?”

“I told you, there’s much to do and—”

“Bah, Katara!” He pulls away with a slight frown, one hand waving in the air. “Stop the excuses. I understand what you’re saying about doing your part and all, and I’m really proud of you for all that you’ve accomplished and still want to do. But why are you _really_ here? You’ve said just as much: you need Zuko.” He pretends not to notice her flinch at the sound of the Fire Lord’s name. “Even if you can manage fine without him, you don’t actually want that—at least not forever. And it’s not like he doesn’t need or love you back. So why do you have to leave him behind? You know you can very well have both. Zuko would never hold you back.”

Katara feels her heart beat erratically in her chest because she _knows_ all this. She has turned it over and over a million different ways in her mind, and each time, she comes to the same conclusion: Zuko loves her, and he would never ask her to give up anything she didn’t want to, most of all her desire to help others. She knows all this but it’s the Other Thing that’s keeping her here, away and aching for him.

At her brother’s insistent stare, she barely manages to whisper, “Because it scares me.”

Sokka’s voice lowers at that, but he has a feeling he knows what she’s talking about. “What does?”

When she looks up to meet eyes as blue as her own, Sokka feels like he’s been sucker punched at the sadness reflected in them. Suddenly, she looks so young and frightened, almost like how she did on That Fateful Day.

“How much he loves me. How much I love him. He took lightning to the chest for me and I almost _lost_ him, Sokka.” Her voice falters and she scrambles to clutch their mother’s necklace, seeking for an anchor in a steadily offsetting conversation. “He was _actually dead_ for a couple of minutes and I didn’t have spirit water to save him and—”

A painful breath rattles out of Katara’s lungs and she stops, gulping in air greedily in the hopes of soothing the burning in her lungs and in her heart.

Confirmation of what he suspected washes over Sokka and his heart breaks for his sister. “Katara.” Tugging on a hair loopie, he bends his head to meet her gaze resolutely. “I’m sorry you’re hurting this way. But you need to know—you won’t lose Zuko like we lost Mom.”

At her brother’s words, Katara feels something inside her snap and come crashing down, the heaving, heart-wrenching sobs she’s been holding in for so long spilling past her lips.

This is what it’s always been about: the fear of having someone love her so much, they would be willing to die for her and to have death actually touch them right before her eyes. Kya had sacrificed herself and the years she could have spent on this earth—with Hakoda, Sokka, their tribe, and her—in order to protect Katara, so that her daughter could have many more years of her own to live. And Zuko—he sacrificed himself, his throne, his country, and _world peace_ to protect her, so that she could, again, continue to live.

Since Kya’s death and Zuko’s revival, Katara spent her days with the awareness that she continued to breathe on borrowed time at the price of the life of someone who loved her (too much). The Spirits had given her back Zuko, but she still remembers the overwhelming loss of her mother every day: how difficult it is to forget the space she once occupied in Katara’s life, and how her heart is perpetually incomplete despite being whole all the same.

She’s already lived through the aftermath of such a loss once, and she doesn’t know if she could do it again if death at her life’s preservation were to touch Zuko once more (she is sure she couldn’t).

So she doesn’t tell him she loves him back, even if every fiber of her being begs her to do so. She doesn’t write him back, even if she wants to tell him, with her own words, what the peace they’d so long envisioned looks like from her corner of the world. And she doesn’t tell him she misses him, even if it’s the only constant thrum to her days.

When she quiets enough to wipe the tears from her eyes, she wraps her arms around herself and manages to whisper hoarsely, “There’s so much I want to do to help heal the world, but who’s going to help heal me?”

Sokka’s heart breaks for her even more because no one deserves this kind of agony and overwhelming sense of loss and being lost—most of all Katara. He doesn’t know how he can help her make sense of it all, but he knows he’ll always be here, holding her hand and protecting her. Just like he always has since they were children. Not that she needed it, but because he _wanted_ to.

So he pulls her tightly into his arms and rests his chin on her head, much like Kya had done when they were younger and in need of comfort.

“I’m here, sis. I don’t know how to give you the answers you’re looking for, but I’m here. I don’t know how, but we’ll heal. _Together_.”

Katara closes her eyes at the promises she knows he’ll go hell and high water to keep and listens to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

Together, he said.

She believes him.

* * *

In the five months Katara spends in the North Pole, Sokka sends her an unending stream of letters that continue to pile precariously on a corner of her desk. Each of them details the tribe’s ongoings and his misadventures, with Amka’s childishly large characters occasionally finding their way in between her brother’s neater ones. Her pupil is growing in her powers by the daily, Sokka reports, although a bit less enthusiastically under their grandfather’s stricter instruction. Katara smiles at the thought and couldn’t be more proud. More than a year ago, she had been the last of the Southern water benders. Now, by the Spirits’ mercy, there are two of them, and she is sure they will only grow in number once more in time.

While Katara cherishes the letters from her family and friends (Suki wrote on the monthly while Toph and Aang suspiciously sent joint ones every chance they could, and even Iroh sent her a missive occasionally), it was her growing collection of Zuko’s that she values above all.

The Fire Lord had somehow gotten word of her travels up north (from a gossiping Sokka, no doubt), and the first letter he pens her while she is under Yugoda’s tutelage is just a little put out.

_I thought we were friends, Katara. Friends tell each other everything, especially where big life choices are concerned._

If she didn’t know him better, she would have thought him truly upset. Nonetheless, the missive and his (terrible) attempt at levity brings a smile to her face. That is, until she realizes she no longer has a scribe and middleman in Sokka. The dread that pools at the bottom of her stomach festers for a whole day before her eyes catch sight of the postscript scribbled in her brother’s own letter as she reads through it after her lessons are done for the day.

_Maybe it’s time for you to go back to what you need, little by little._

Katara scoffs, certain her brother had timed the arrival of his letter to shortly after Zuko’s would have found her. How he knew about these things, she’ll never know. Yet all the same, she feels a surge of gratitude and affection for Sokka. He didn’t always know what to say or when exactly to say them, but every now and again—increasingly so, these days—he did. And it always hit the mark.

Taking a deep breath, Katara picks up her brush and dips it into the inkwell, her hands trembling just the slightest.

 _Little by little, Katara_.

She writes her first letter back to Zuko in over a year.

* * *

Her days in her sister tribe settle into an easy routine.

She spends the first half of her mornings going over forms and techniques with Yugoda before learning about the intricacies of the human anatomy in the latter half. They take an hour or so’s break for lunch, and most days, Katara finds herself conversing with the older woman and her apprentices in the dining hall, exchanging stories and getting to know her peers. Other times, she ventures out on her own to explore the immaculate city in ways she was not able to in her visit during the war.

After lunch, the master healer would bring her along her rounds in the clinic in the city center, deeming it necessary for Katara to both observe and apply what she learns. This is perhaps Katara’s favorite part of the day, as she gets to see her knowledge and skill put to the test and grow before her very eyes.

By mid-afternoon, her lessons lighten in load as Yugoda teaches her the various remedies and medicines that are appropriate for different injuries and ailments. This often begins with it a discussion on ingredients and their healing properties, followed by a demonstration of the procedure to create them.

When the sun sets over the horizon, Katara bows in thanks to her master and is dismissed to do as she pleases. That usually means going to the training school and challenging Pakku’s former students to a sparring match. They are all too eager to go toe to toe with the greatest water bender of their generation. About ninety percent of the time, she comes out victorious, and these matches quickly become a means for her to learn _and_ to teach. If only her grandfather could see her now.

For all the joy this little routine of hers brings, Katara is disappointed to learn that women being permitted to learn combative bending is still a rarity in the North. She is told that those who manage to earn a spot in the training school do so under much duress and after a lengthy struggle to prove themselves. The fact that she is allowed to spar and to teach in the training school in the first place is already a huge concession to the North’s traditions.

Incensed, Katara requests an audience with Chief Arnook and voices her opinions on the matter. When she is told, resignedly, that tradition and culture are delicate matters to challenge and that there is no reason for warriors now that the war is over, Katara asks if Yue’s sacrifice was not the act of a warrior _herself_.

She almost feels remorseful for going down that route when Arnook flinches and frowns, but she is adamant that it is not the fact that warriors are not needed that is the problem, but that women are not. At least not in ways equal to the men.

Women, she plows on, are not meant to just be tied to the kitchen, the home, or the healing huts. They are strong and capable and worthy of so much more. While she acknowledges that some women do find joy and purpose in the traditional roles, there are others who would not and could not, and they deserve the right to choose for themselves.

Softly, and more reverently, Katara clinches her argument.

“Just like Yue chose for herself.”

That certainly breaks Arnook’s unmoving demeanor.

Sensing the opening she had been waiting for, Katara digs her heels in.

“I’m not asking you to uphaul your entire culture, Chief Arnook. I, more than anyone, know what it’s like to fight to preserve it. All I’m asking for is that you reconsider the ways you would let your women forge the North’s history _and_ future. Change doesn’t always mean a bad thing.”

When Arnook looks at her with a thoughtfully critical glint in his eyes, she holds her breath.

“You present a very strong case, Master Katara. I can see why Pakku calls you a force of nature.”

She laughs at that and shrugs, thinking of a grandmother who ran away from these very shores to carve her own destiny. “It runs in the family.”

The Chieftain nods, and it’s all Katara can do to stop herself from embracing him when he says he’ll think about their discussion and bring it up to the Council.

It seems that Sokka’s advice of taking it little by little didn’t just apply to matters of the heart.

* * *

When more women noticeably trickle into the training school after the end of a long month of explosive Council meetings, Katara considers it a personal victory.

This is why she spoke for the voiceless: change begins with a ripple. It may be small and seem inconsequential, but the power is hidden from beneath the surface. With time, the energy the ripple carries becomes part of stronger waters. And eventually, a tidal wave is formed. Change. Never easy and oftentimes a long time in the making. But when it crests, it does so quickly and unmistakably.

When the same women cross paths with her and bow with admiration and gratitude in their eyes, Katara turns hers to the shining moon above and hopes that she’s made Yue proud.

* * *

Not even a week after she sends the letter recounting the events to Zuko, she receives a short note in response.

_Look at you paving the way for women to grow in the same ways you have! They have the greatest honor of having a defender and fighter in you. I wouldn’t be surprised if the women write songs about your efforts in the years to come. It would only be fitting._

_I’m so proud of you, my moon._

_Z_

There are many things that send her heart thumping giddily and cause a wide smile to split her face in that short paragraph, most of all the recognition for the work she’s done and the very fact that she was able to do what she did without being kicked out of the Northern Water Tribe.

Yet somehow, just as thrilling, if not more, are the last two words he’d written, already etched in her memory and carved deep into her heart.

* * *

As Katara’s time in the North comes to a close, she finds herself eagerly anticipating the next shores her traveling will take her to. The itch she felt in the South shortly before she made her way here has returned, and she knows that it heralds another scenic change. She’s already decided to make a stop at Kyoshi and Yu Dao to see Suki and Toph, respectively, but she confides in her master that she would like to visit the smaller towns where help would be needed the most first before venturing into the places her friends resided in.

“Why don’t you start with the town of Shan Bao?” Yugoda suggests, pointing at a northwestern town along the coast on Katara’s map. “It will be easy for you to reach on your canoe from here and you can work your way from there however you see fit.”

Katara hums. “That could work. Thank you for the suggestion.”

The elderly woman looks at her fondly. “Thank _you_ , Katara. The world doesn’t know how lucky it is with you walking its lands.”

The newly proclaimed master healer flushes. “That’s far too kind of you.”

Chuckling, Yugoda pulls a small bundle from a drawer in her desk, and Katara’s eyes widen. The cloth is the blue of the Southern Water Tribe, but the material is one she is not familiar with.

“This came for you while you were doing your rounds.”

Katara’s brows furrow as she accepts the package. She immediately recognizes Sokka’s knots as she studies it, weighing it on her palm. It is slightly bigger than the span of her hand and light enough to carry.

“Do you know who sent it?”

Yugoda nods. “Your brother’s messenger hawk delivered it.”

Katara doesn’t say anything as she unties her brother’s work. After years of living with him, the normally difficult knots were a piece of cake to unravel, and the cloth falls away to reveal a pair of beautifully crafted waterskins made from the finest seal-leather.

A gasp leaves Katara’s parted lips. Sealskin is extremely expensive, even in the Poles. To gift her such a thing…

She has a sneaking suspicion as to who is behind all this, and it is only confirmed when she catches sight of the Fire Nation’s royal insignia stitched on one corner of the cloth. She has little time to ponder on it before she notices the parchment tucked beneath the waterskins. With shaking hands, she unfolds it with bated breath.

 _To celebrate your becoming a master healer_. _Congratulations, Katara!_

_I asked for your father and Sokka’s help for this one, so credit goes to them for graciously accommodating my request. We were lucky that a hunt coincided with the time I commissioned this. It’s just a little something to aid you in your next travels._

_I wish I could see how much you’ve grown firsthand. I’m sure the Earth Kingdom will benefit greatly from your heart._

_I’m already so proud, my moon. Take care always._

_I love you._

_Z_

Tears prickle at Katara’s eyes and she presses the note and precious gifts to her chest. It is moments like these where she feels the months and seas between them so keenly and she aches to be with him the most.

But not yet.

“Your boy loves you a lot, hmm?”

Katara almost forgets that Yugoda is in the room with her.

Swiping at the tears that manage to escape, Katara gives a watery laugh.

“Very much so.”

It doesn’t escape her notice that these days, she’s stopped saying “too much” in response to such a question.

* * *

The next six months see Katara hopping from one Earth Kingdom town to the next.

After securing permission from Kuei to travel around his kingdom with intent to heal and to help rebuild however she can, she begins at Shan Bao as Yugoda suggested. Within an hour of her arrival, she realizes her theory had been correct: the townspeople could definitely use her healing powers and then some, even with all the aid that’s arrived and even after a year or so has passed since the war’s end.

The townsfolk are understandably wary of her at first, but they recognize her for her efforts during the war, and that allows her to explain her intentions without much contest. They ease up around her after that, and she even manages to befriend some of them. She gets to work as soon as the sun rises (Zuko teases her about how _she_ rises with the sun now) and heals as many people as she can before her energy for the day is drained. Her days ebb and flow in this way, and by the end of the week, she is traveling onto the next town with an ostrich horse she purchased using the money she earned from selling her canoe.

She settles into a similar routine with each town she passes, but she finds that it is not always as easy to accomplish her goals.

Some towns struggle with deeper wounds than others, and a few outright refuse her entry, let alone her help, despite the obvious need for medical care. She finds herself slipping back into old habits in those moments, and she uses the cover of the night to sneak around and to do what she came to do. She hasn’t been caught just yet, and she takes pride in her improved stealth skills long enough to heal another injured.

(Zuko teases her in his letters, but she knows it’s done in good humor.

 _Why am I not surprised you impersonated a river spirit during the war to help a Fire Nation town? It’s such a_ you _thing to do. Have I ever told you about the Blue Spirit?_ )

The farther she gets from the main cities, the more she encounters towns that don’t just require healing, but the purification of polluted waterways, too. She’s run into a handful of runaway Fire Nation soldiers covertly living in those towns, and when she sees them try to make amends for the violent history of their homeland, it both saddens and reinvigorates her. It always hits her more tangibly in those moments how no one, not even the Fire Nation, came out as a victor of the war. But they are all trying to carry forward with the determination to never let it happen again, and that is more than a start.

She writes two letters after leaving the more troubled towns, one to Kuei and one to the Fire Lord. To the former, she explains what is lacking and what is urgent still, and to the latter, she suggests the ways that certain reparations could ease the strife. She also vents out the emotional toll it takes on her, something she expected in the beginning of her journey but nonetheless was not completely prepared for when it came down to it.

Zuko always replies with the resolution to see what can be done about the reparations, and then with kindness about her personal anecdotes and struggles. Occasionally, he sends her one of Uncle’s calming tea blends, and she is grateful for the ways he looks out for her, even while they’re apart. It keeps her going on the days she is tempted to throw the towel in or to buckle down in despair.

But this is why she began her mission: to give these people hope and a chance to begin again. The war is over but many live shackled to its horrors. They will live with it for the rest of their lives, she knows. But she also knows that living with the trauma doesn’t have to be all that life is about.

So she presses on, and continues to the next town, helping to ease the hurts however she can.

* * *

Kyoshi Island is beautiful in the summer.

The remnants of spring linger in the air, and she revels at how refreshing a sight Suki’s hometown is. The bright green of the island flora blends pleasantly with the sparkling blue of the waters that surround it, and Katara breathes it all in with awe, despite the fact that she has been here for close to two weeks now.

Life is easy here, and Katara slips into a tranquil that escaped her during her busy days in the North Pole. She spends most of her time by the shore where Aang, Sokka, and she had first seen the unagi, soaking up the summer sun, running through her katas, and swimming in the cold water. When she’s not by her element, she’s mingling with the townspeople in the market and patiently answering questions from Aang’s fan club about the Gang’s wartime adventures.

Occasionally, she trains in basic hand to hand combat with Suki, who made the offer shortly after Katara was given the privilege to sit in and watch the warriors train. The water bender eagerly accepts the challenge, having become fascinated by the non-bending fighting techniques she saw Sokka, Suki, and even Jet masterfully exhibit during the war.

It is during one of her sparring sessions with Suki that she asks the other girl a question that has been running itself ragged in the back of her mind since she arrived on Kyoshi’s shores.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do when Sokka proposes?”

Suki, as she expected, has her hands full training a new generation of warriors. More than just the defenders of the island in times of chaos and instability, the women are a legacy of Avatar Kyoshi herself—a legacy that she has no doubt her friend will passionately preserve and uphold in her lifetime. But with Suki’s relationship with her brother only growing stronger and steadier with each season that passes, Katara knows it’s only a matter of time before a wedding is on the horizon.

The question is unexpected enough to freeze Suki in place, just as she is about to jab at Katara’s vulnerable spot. Thanks to the distraction, the water bender successfully evades it.

“What?”

Katara realizes that perhaps this wasn’t the best way to bring up the topic, and she hastens to explain herself. “Not that he’s planning to propose anytime soon, as far as I know!”

Suki raises a brow in response and Katara drops her stance. Their sparring session is effectively over, but the conversation is not.

“These past few days just got me thinking,” she continues, “Since you and Sokka live in different nations, will you move to the South once you get married?”

Suki opens her mouth to respond, but Katara carries on, oblivious.

“And you’re obviously very committed to your warriors. But Sokka’s my father’s heir, so I don’t see him leaving the South. But it would be terribly unfair to expect you to leave your home, too. Where does your role as chief warrior and your life here on Kyoshi Island fit in to a future with Sokka then?”

A frown pulls at the other girl’s lips for a moment before understanding dawns on her. Sighing, Suki plops down gracefully at the center of the dojo.

“Sokka and I haven’t discussed it in full yet, but it’s more or less agreed that I will be moving to the South once we marry. The long distance thing is fine and all at the moment, but I would like to wake up and go to bed with my husband by my side instead of seas away for the rest of our lives, you know?”

The girls share a chuckle and Suki looks contemplative as she speaks again.

“To be honest, I don’t mind the thought of moving to the South as much as I thought I would. Sure, I’ll miss the island and my friends and family here, but it’s a small price to pay to be with Sokka.”

Katara smiles, warmth blooming in her chest. Of all the people in the world, she was glad her brother found Suki.

“As for my duties here as chief warrior, I’ve started training my second-in-command to take over once the time comes. I can’t very well lead the girls all the way from the South Pole, after all.”

The younger girl’s brows furrow. “You would give it all up, just like that?”

Suki tilts her head to the side. “I’m not giving it up, Katara. Just because I’ll be moving away and stepping down as chief warrior doesn’t mean I stop being _a_ warrior. I couldn’t get rid of that part of me even if I tried—it’s in my blood. I will always be a Kyoshi warrior, in as much as you’ll always be a water bender. Besides, there will be other ways to uphold my people’s traditions even when I’m away, like starting a warrior school, not unlike a bending school a certain someone here established herself.”

Suki throws a cheeky wink for good measure, and they both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“I guess that makes sense.”

“But?”

Katara smiles wryly. Suki knew her too well.

“Won’t you miss it? The island, your people—everything else? Aren’t you afraid you’ll… I don’t know. Forget? Change?”

Pursing her lips, the redhead tilts her head to the side. “Are we still talking about me, Katara?”

Flushing a deep crimson, the girl in question averts her eyes.

Grinning, Suki nudges her good-naturedly.

“Of course I’ll miss it. I always will. But I’ll miss Sokka more if I stay here, and that’s not something I’m willing to torture myself over for the rest of my life. Change is inevitable but forgetting is a choice. As long as I never forget where I come from and live a life that reflects that and honors my heritage, I can follow Sokka anywhere in the world and not regret a thing.”

There is so much resolve in Suki’s voice, it moves Katara greatly and tugs at her heartstrings.

“I’m so glad he has you, Suki. The Spirits couldn’t have given him a better partner in you.”

A bright smile lights up the girl’s face. “They couldn’t have given _me_ a better partner, too, you know.”

Katara grins. “I know.”

* * *

Later that evening, Katara sits on the steps of the dojo and maps out constellations in the sky. With the moon but a thin crescent hanging from the heavens, the stars shine all the brightly against the darkened skyline.

Briefly, she wonders what stories Zuko would share of the Fire Nation’s constellations if he were here. Stargazing had been a pastime of theirs on Ember Island when sleep did not come easy and the nights were long. No matter how tiring the days were, she always looked forward to the evenings spent sprawled out by the beachfront listening to the quiet rasp of his voice.

Quietly and slowly, longing unfurls in her chest. No matter the distance between them or the time that has passed, the sting of missing him never abates.

A gentle breeze blows past the island, carrying with it the earthy smell of leaves turning with the season, and Katara breathes deeply.

Inhale— _it’s okay to miss him_. Exhale— _it’s okay to miss him_.

She repeats the breathing exercise and reminds herself of the promises he made her over a year ago until her heart aches a little less. Grounding herself once more, she focuses on the stillness that surrounds her and simply lets herself be.

“Mind if I join you?”

Suki’s sweet voice interrupts the solitude, and Katara smiles in acquiescence, suddenly grateful for the company.

As she traces Nanuk on the horizon, Katara sighs wistfully. “The stars are so lovely out here.”

“I’m sure it’s lovelier in the South Pole.”

An indulgent smile is thrown her way, and she perks up slightly.

“You should visit when the southern lights are out. It’s breathtaking.”

Humming, Suki leans back on her hands. “I might soon. I haven’t seen Sokka in months.”

Katara chuckles. “Hitting two birds with one stone, then?”

A wide grin pulls at the warrior’s lips. “Oh, you bet.”

A comfortable silence lapses between them, and Katara is grateful for the gift of sisterhood. Before finding Aang in that iceberg, the only friend she had who was her age was Sokka, and he didn’t really count because he’s her brother. Now, though, she has more friends than she can keep track of, and one of those closest to her heart sits here with her, deliriously in love with her brother— _someday, she’ll be my_ sister—and she thinks of how things have somehow come full circle.

Zuko once told her of how Uncle Iroh was always reminding him of how destiny is a funny thing, and she’s inclined to agree. Who would have thought that friendships spanning across the nations and stretched between shared experiences of loss, hope, and love would save the world?

Only the Spirits’ ironic sense of humor, certainly.

From her periphery, she sees Suki turn to look at her. She knows that look on her face and sighs, steeling herself.

_I was wondering when she would bring it up._

“Do you want to talk about it?”

(Do you want to talk about _him_?)

Suki’s question is as gentle and unassuming as she is, and Katara doesn’t have the heart to play dumb.

“I just need time,” she says instead.

When Suki replies, Katara reckons it shouldn’t warm her soul like it does, but she’s coming to understand more and more these days that sometimes, the truest and kindest things are the simplest ones, too.

“You have all the time in the world.”

* * *

They spend the rest of the night in easy conversation and laughter, recounting fond memories of their travels with the Gang and their own adventures in the intervening time that came after they all parted ways.

Suki helps her plan out the rest of her trip around the Earth Kingdom, as well as promises to send her off with a box of the Kyoshi Island plum delicacies she’s fond of when the time comes for her to leave these shores again.

As a stronger breeze blows past, tousling their hair into their eyes and making them giggle, Katara is once again reminded of how wide and wonderful the world can be, and how it is already healing in all the right ways, thanks to the people who make it a world worth living in and fighting for.

* * *

_Katara,_

_First thing’s first: would you mind giving the messenger hawk some treats? I don’t think it’s too happy about having to carry anything other than a letter, but I’ve sent you a box of those pandan-flavored mochi you like so much. I hope it actually arrives intact. Azula was feeling better today and even kindly asked (a rare occurrence!) the chefs to make her some salted egg ones, so I figured I might as well put in a request for you._

_Shen and Mizu say hi, by the way. Mizu has a boyfriend now, did I tell you? He’s one of the gardeners here in the palace, but he was born and raised in the Earth Kingdom. His name’s Kiem and he’s a nice kid. But he better treat Mizu right or I’ll—anyway. Shen says he stuffed lychee nuts in some of the mochi as a treat, so enjoy the surprise, I guess. I still don’t know how you managed to befriend the toughest person in my staff, Katara, but I guess if anyone can do it, it’s you._

_I wish I could say more but I’ve been swamped with meetings all week and right now is the only time I have to even breathe. Stupid Council._

_Where are you headed next? Say hi to Suki for me._

_I hope you’re well. I’m always thinking about you._

_Z_

* * *

Unlike the slow, almost idyllic manner in which her time at Kyoshi Island passed, Katara’s stopover at Yu Dao is much more boisterous. She supposes it’s to be expected when one accompanies the world’s greatest earth bender (and mischievous runt, as per one disgruntled Fire Lord) in her daily agenda of “bossing people around and kicking their butts” (her words, not Katara’s), but she’s not complaining. The change of pace keeps her on her toes and reminds her of why she loved spending time with the Blind Bandit so much.

“You’re in luck, Sugar Queen,” Toph announces through a spoonful of jook during breakfast. “I happen to have a free day today and I, against my better judgement, am giving you free reign of my schedule.”

Fighting a smile, Katara drawls, “You make it sound like I’m your personal assistant.”

“I can always make _you_ clean up the Academy if you’d rather prefer that,” Toph’s smile shows all of her teeth and Katara blanches at the thought of cleaning up after Toph’s equally dirt-loving students.

“No thanks, I’m good with being your assistant.”

The master earth bender grins impishly. “I thought so.”

Katara rolls her eyes but chuckles. She takes a slow sip of her tea, savoring the flavor and warmth. While not quite like Iroh’s blends, it’s good enough to start her morning on a good note.

“So?” Toph prods with a burp, “What are you planning to drag me through today?”

The older girl frowns, not quite sure how to answer. She’s seen most of the former Fire Nation colony by now and she doesn’t think Toph would appreciate a shopping spree as much as Sokka would. Recalling the ways in which they passed their down time in the Upper Ring during the war, Katara suddenly gets an idea.

“Why don’t we go to that newly opened spa? A girls’ day out, part two!”

A smirk stretches on her lips as a look of horror briefly flashes across Toph’s face. It’s quickly schooled into a mask of indifference before she can relish at the sight of it too much.

“You must really like the pampering, huh, Sweetness?”

Katara laughs and shrugs. “It’s been a while.”

Toph sighs long-sufferingly. “I suppose I’ll have to accompany you since I _did_ give you free reign over my day.”

“Oh, but I’m not quite done yet!”

“There’s _more_?”

“Don’t sound so put-out now, Toph. I’m in charge of your day, remember?”

A grunt is all she gets in response and she grins widely. It isn’t often that one gets a hold over Toph Beifong, after all.

“I was thinking that we could head to the market afterwards to buy some ingredients. Since you’ve never been to the South Pole, I thought I could bring a piece of it to you. I’ll make us some stewed sea prunes, what do you say?”

Toph is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment.

“That’s…really nice, Katara. I’d really like that.”

The water bender smiles and takes another sip of her tea.

* * *

Much like their first spa day, Toph takes great delight in pranking the ladies waiting on them. Katara watches her antics and laughs quietly behind a raised hand to her lips, doing little to stop the younger girl’s harmless fun. She makes a mental note to tip the ladies well for their troubles later.

It seems so long ago now, that first girl’s day in Ba Sing Se, and it’s invigorating to be able to indulge a little without thought of a war going on outside a walled city or a brainwashing quasi-police force trailing their every move.

The spa ladies attempt to scrub Toph’s feet clean of ten layers of hardened dirt, but just like in Ba Sing Se, Toph earth bends them out of the room before they can even make progress with _one_ layer.

“Stay away from these babies, ladies!” she hollers, and Katara’s hand drops at the shouted admonition. Her loud guffaw fills the stunned silence in the room, and Toph only turns her nose up in the air like the heiress she is.

“C’mon, Sugar Queen, let’s head to the steam bath.”

Still giggling, Katara thanks the lady attending to her and follows the smaller girl out of the room.

“They’ll never learn, will they?”

Toph sounds so forlorn, Katara would have bought the act if it wasn’t for the devious smirk on her face.

“It’s their job, Toph,” she chides in amusement.

The earth bender shrugs and pushes the door to the antechamber of the steam bath open. Bamboo shoji screens line both sides of the room to give some semblance of privacy while they change, and another door leads to the bath itself across from the one they just entered. Steam curls out and through the crack of the second door, and after changing out of their robes, the two girls make their way into the bath and sigh in relief as the steam hits their skin immediately.

“This is the life!” Toph cheers, and Katara has to agree. There’s something about steaming that just melts the worries off the bone, and she leans her head against the wall with a happy groan.

“I could get used to this.”

Toph turns sightless eyes at her remark. “I would let those nasty ladies near my feet if I get to come in here as often as I want.”

Katara laughs as her eyes slide close.

Some things never changed, and she found great comfort in that.

* * *

“Am I going to need therapy after I eat this?”

Katara playfully glares at Toph as she sets down a bowl of stew in front of her friend.

“Hey! I’ll have you know this happens to be a Southern delicacy!”

The Blind Bandit pouts as she lifts a spoonful and sniffs. Promptly making a face, she lets the spoon drop into her bowl with a loud splash.

“It smells like a milder version of Sokka’s socks, Katara. Do you mean to tell me Sokka’s socks are a Southern delicacy?”

Katara chokes on her own food, soup trickling down her chin as she coughs to clear her airway.

“Toph!”

The girl in question cackles, hitting a palm to the table in amusement. “Oh, that was a good one. You should’ve seen your face, Sugar Queen!”

Scowling, Katara wipes at her chin before crossing her arms over her chest.

“Let’s see if you’ll still be laughing once you have a spoonful. It’s an acquired taste, and I’m praying that you _will_ need a therapist after you try it.”

Toph shrugs before bracing her shoulders and bringing her spoon to her mouth, Katara watching her carefully.

“Well?”

“It’s actually not bad,” Toph smacks her lips before digging into the bowl anew with gusto. “It’s not quite like ocean kumquats, but it’s something I can ride with.”

Katara tampers down the urge to smack a hand to her forehead.

_It figures. Of course Toph of all people would like stewed sea prunes._

Disappointed that her friend didn’t get the karma she hoped she would, Katara digs into her own bowl.

_But I guess that’s another person outside of the South Pole who appreciates it._

With that thought in mind, a small smile curves her lips.

The rest of the meal passes in an endless stream of banter and laughter. It’s easy to remember all the reasons why Katara’s missed her friend so, and she’s glad that she made her way to Yu Dao in the midst of her journey.

By the time the two girls get around to preparing a pot of tea to cap off their day, an easy silence has found them. Toph prepares the tea service as Katara works the kettle over a burner, and the glowflies flittering against the darkened evening sky outside the open window serve as an enchanting backdrop.

Once they settle into their seats and wait for the tea to steep, Toph appraises Katara thoughtfully.

Raising a brow, Katara asks, “Something on your mind?”

The earth bender rests her feet on the table, her hands folding behind her head. “No. But I can tell something’s on _yours_.”

Katara is a little taken aback by the comment. “What do you mean?” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and waits for a response.

“You’ve been all sorts of contemplative these past few days. How are you, really, Sweetness?”

Fiddling with her tea cup, Katara turns the question over in her mind. It would be easy to say she’s fine. She knows Toph won’t prod if she really doesn’t want her to, but she also knows that the younger girl wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t so obvious that she was bothered.

And the truth is, she _is_ a bit bothered. The past four months in the Earth Kingdom have been nothing short of fulfilling, especially when she leaves a town in higher spirits than when she found it. It’s bitter work, that’s true, but it’s her life’s calling and she’s dedicated to it a hundred percent. Lately, however, she’s also been feeling drained in all sorts of ways—a little bit unhappy, too, if she really thought about it—and she doesn’t understand why.

“I’m okay,” she finally answers, and promptly rolls her eyes at the other girl’s skeptical look. “But I guess I’m also feeling a bit…lost.”

Toph hums but remains silent.

“I’m not so sure why. I’m doing what needs to be done—what I _want_ to do, but I’m not as happy as I thought I’d be. Fulfilled, yes. Maybe even content, but not really happy.” She pauses, grappling with the words. “Does that make sense?”

To her relief, Toph nods. “It does. I don’t think it’s exactly the same, but I felt something similar when I was back in Gaoling after the war. I was mending my relationship with my parents, something I both needed and wanted to do, but I also wasn’t happy with just staying under their wing again. Honestly, it felt like I’d gone back to how things were before you guys found me. The best way to describe it is that for a while, I was happy. And then I wasn’t.”

Katara sucks in a breath. That’s certainly one way of putting it.

“Is that why you decided to set up the Academy?”

“Yeah. Opening the Academy gave me the autonomy I wanted while showing my parents that I’m not just some helpless kid. They tried to stop me of course, but for the second time in my life, I had something that only _I_ could do, and I wasn’t about to let them take that from me. Besides, naming it after the family kept them satisfied enough—or at least for now.” Toph shrugs nonchalantly, but Katara can see the pride in the small smirk that forms on her face.

“To be honest,” Toph continues, “when I left Gaoling, I wasn’t sure if this—the school, the move, _everything_ —would make me happier. I just had this vision and went for it. And now I know that I am. Happier, that is.”

Sighing, she drops her feet from the table and moves to pour them tea.

“My relationship with my parents is far from fixed. I knew from the beginning that moving to Yu Dao would more or less ensure that it might never be, not until they recognize me for _me_ and not for who they want me to be. But in those few months I was back home, I realized I couldn’t keep putting my life on hold just to appease them. I want us to be okay, but I need to make something for myself, too, you know?”

Katara smiles wryly, bringing her now full tea cup closer to herself. “Nothing’s ever really as linear as we plan.”

Toph nods, a grin on her face. “Exactly! And that’s why it’s so _exciting_.”

The water bender laughs softly. “I wish I could say the same.”

Across the table, Toph sets her tea cup down with a gentle clink. “It’s okay to admit that you’re lost, Katara. Right now, you’re on autopilot and putting the world’s needs before your own because that’s all you’ve ever done, and that’s who you are at your core. You’re kind, generous, caring, and strong. Pouring yourself into the world—that isn’t a bad thing. It’s important work. But you need to figure out what _you_ want out of life, too, and go after it before it’s too late. Because _that_ ’s important as well.”

Katara sighs, but a pleasant warmth at her friend’s praises spreads through her.

“I already know what I want out of life,” she murmurs a beat later, “But I’m afraid the Spirits won’t let me have it, or won’t let me _keep_ it, at any rate.”

Toph hums. “I understand why you’d think that. We didn’t exactly have it easy growing up, did we?”

“No, we didn’t.” 

“Is that why you’re holding back from saying it?”

Katara’s wide eyes lift from peering into her tea cup to meet Toph’s sightless gaze. She doesn’t have to ask what Toph is referring to.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

The earth bender cocks her head to the side. “That’s because you never will be—not until you stop running and face the cause of all your yearning head on instead.”

Katara sighs forlornly. “I thought you’d say that.”

Toph smirks. “If you can’t tell him you love him, then maybe you should at least tell him you need him, too.”

She knows Toph senses the confusion rolling off her in waves when the girl smiles genuinely as she rises from her seat. Before she crosses the threshold of the kitchen, she turns and says, “I and love and you are just three words, Sugar Queen. They’re not the only ones that carry the same power when put together.”

With one last pointed look from her milky eyes, she turns and is gone.

* * *

Katara stays up well into the night pondering Toph’s words.

It never ceases to surprise her just how perceptive the earth bender could be—it’s easy to forget when she’s too often sarcastic and mischievous. Honestly, it’s one of the things she loves about the girl the most, no matter how unsettled their conversations seem to make her these days as a result of it.

Watching the stars twinkling in the moonless sky, Katara breathes deeply.

“What should I do, Mom?”

Over the years, she developed a habit of talking to the celestial bodies above, imagining that somewhere in the vast universe, Kya was looking down at her and listening to her stories and fears.

A slight breeze blows into the room and Katara shivers.

“I’m just not ready to say it, you know? Do I even _have_ to?” she wonders aloud, “It’s not like he doesn’t know, and it’s not like I don’t show it.”

A cloud drifts across the constellation she’s trying to make out, and Katara flaps a hand in front of her. “Yeah, I know. I’m just making excuses.”

Resting her chin on her other hand, she pouts. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to follow Toph’s advice…”

A second breeze, much warmer this time, dances through her hair.

“Alright, alright. I’ll do it.”

Before she finally falls asleep and before she can bow out of it, Katara gathers the courage she’s always prided herself in and pens a quick (but emotionally-heavy) note to the Fire Lord.

 _I want you to know that not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. I need you, Zuko, more than I’ve needed anyone else. I know they’re not the words you want to hear, but Toph says there’s more than one way to say_ that _, and until I can say it, I hope these words will be enough. I need you, and I never will not._

* * *

His messenger hawk finds her just as she’s crossing the borders out of Yu Dao. The thin, cylindrical canister on its back has long been replaced with a rectangular box, and Katara grins when she pulls out a packet of a familiar Fire Nation treat along with a letter.

Slipping the packet into her satchel for later consumption, she digs around for the treats she keeps at the ready for the messenger hawk and grins triumphantly when she finds them.

She turns to the animal perched on her shoulder and pets its head affectionately. “You’ve been working really hard, haven’t you?”

The hawk squawks in the affirmative before happily gobbling up the treat she holds out.

“It’s much appreciated, thank you.”

After giving the hawk two more treats and another pat, she laughs in delight as it flies around her in gratitude before heading back to Caldera.

Suddenly alone, Katara unrolls the parchment with anticipation.

_Dear Katara,_

_I meant to write you a longer letter, but I got your note and I found myself suddenly missing you more than usual. I’m also swamped with meetings again so the longer update will have to wait for later. With the second anniversary coming up, the Council has been meeting more and more, preparing for the diplomatic talks we’ll no doubt be entrenched in once the day comes. Can you believe how quickly time flies? The world’s come such a long way, but there’s many more to go. I’m just glad we all get to experience the peacetime together. Especially you and me._

_Wow, that was really cheesy. I’m sorry, Azula wanted to have a “day off” today and against my better judgment, I let her have some plum wine at lunch. I must have had more myself than I thought. The Council won’t be happy about that. Gah._

_Anyway. I want you to know that I need you, too, and I’m grateful you said it. I know how much it must have taken for you to do so. What I said all those months ago still holds true. I don’t want you to feel pressured about saying_ it _back, my moon. I told you—I’ll say it enough for the both of us until you can. So: I love you._

_And I hope you enjoy the mild fire gummies Shen made for you. I should have never had him make the mochi all those months ago. Now he insists on sending you something every time I send a letter. My messenger hawk hates me for it now, I just know it._

_I’ll write you again soon. Keep safe._

_Z_

Folding the letter, Katara feels the telltale prickle behind her eyes and a lightness to her soul. She’s not quite sure how she feels, but as she closes her precious box with its newest addition ensconced in it, she realizes that she actually does.

As she continues down the dusty path she had been walking on before Zuko’s messenger hawk found her, she smiles.

It feels a lot like an old wound that had begun bleeding again finally closing up for good.

* * *

The last two months of her journey find Katara working her way through other former Fire Nation colonies. When the war ended, Zuko had made sure to immediately pull out his troops on all foreign lands, sending aid as needed in the form of engineers, doctors, and even farmers from his own land instead. It ensured his people’s employment while also meeting reparation demands, and Katara remembers how proud she was when he had disclosed his plan.

Unlike the rest of the Earth Kingdom towns, the colonies were much more receptive to the Fire Lord’s aid, their lives having become enmeshed with the Fire Nation’s long ago. It made achieving Katara’s goals decidedly easier, and she works with a sense of bittersweetness, knowing that while she’s close to completing what she set out to do all those moons ago, it also means she’s increasingly having to face the fact that she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself next.

 _You can always come visit the Air Temples_ , Aang suggested in his latest letter, this one his own and not a joint one with Toph. Katara promises him that she’ll consider the offer, but deep down, she knows that it will be a while before she sees the offer through. While she misses her oldest and dearest friend, at the moment, another round of traveling didn’t seem as appealing as it would have a few months ago. After her months on the road, she just wants to find her own place of permanence and grow some roots. When a familiar pair of amber eyes and sweltering heat wrapped up in swathes of red, black, and gold enter her mind each time she allows her thoughts to stray in that territory, a giddy tingle of warmth and longing sweeps through her. Could she really have that?

“You seem a little bothered, Katara.”

The concerned voice snaps the young woman out of her thoughts and she looks up from where she’s just finished healing a child’s sprain.

Shaking her head to clear the last of her daydreams, Katara smiles reassuringly as she meets kind, brown eyes looking down at her expectantly. “I’m alright, Lei. Just got lost in my own thoughts for a moment there.”

About a week and a half ago, she arrived in Lu Hua in the middle of a monsoon downpour. Lei and her husband Ping, the town’s only healers, had graciously taken her in and provided her with a warm cup of tea and an extra cot to sleep in for the night after they spotted her bending the sheets of rain away from herself just as she stumbled upon the town. She had been staying in their spare room since then and had taken quickly to the kind couple and their rambunctious five year old, Han, especially with her spending most of her time helping out in their clinic.

Lei chuckles. “I’ll say. You still managed to fix up Rumi well though. You really are a master healer.”

Katara flushes and turns to her patient with a smile. “You’re all good now, Rumi. Be careful next time, alright?”

Rumi nods her head enthusiastically and grins, her two missing front teeth making it an endearingly lopsided one. “Thank you, Miss Katara!”

The two healers watch as she runs out of the clinic, screaming for her friends to resume their game of tag. Once she’s out of sight, Katara turns to the older woman, who she lays a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Want to tell me what’s got you distracted?”

Katara finds herself smiling. This is the first time she’s been asked the question and she doesn’t feel like closing in on herself. “Just thinking of what I’ll be doing next.”

Lei nods in understanding and steers them towards the steps of the clinic. Slowly lowering her heavily pregnant body onto the first step with Katara’s help, the older woman sighs and pats her round belly. “You’re almost at the end of your journey, right?”

“Yup. Feels like the end of an era.”

Lei laughs. “I’m sure it does. I’m surprised you managed to see the whole of the Earth Kingdom in just six months!”

“Well, I didn’t see every inch, per se. Just most of it, I guess.”

“Mhmm, that’s still impressive. Not to mention very noble of you, giving your time and energy to all those people.”

Katara flushes but can’t help the pleased smile that lights up her face.

Lei pats her hand good-naturedly. “I suppose you’re headed home afterwards?”

The water bender tilts her head in contemplation. “I’m not so sure. I miss my family, but…”

A knowing smile spreads on Lei’s face. “You miss him more, don’t you?”

Zuko’s most recent letter arrived at the beginning of the week, and with it, tons of questions from the expectant mother when she caught sight of the Fire Lord’s messenger hawk. Katara found herself giving the older woman an abridged version of the story, and Lei had swooned and cried at all the right places. _Blame the hormones_ , she’d said.

Katara averts her eyes but says, almost shyly, “I do.”

“Ping tells me an Earth Kingdom merchant ship is due to arrive in a few days in the next town over. Maybe you should get on it when it heads back.” Lei nudges her with an elbow and Katara laughs.

“I don’t know, Lei. I’m not sure if I’m completely ready to see him yet.”

That puts a frown on the Earth Kingdom woman’s round face. “Why not?”

“It’s been two years!” Katara cries, twirling her hair around a finger. “So much has changed. And up until two months ago, I couldn’t even tell him I needed him, much less…you know.”

“Katara,” Lei fixes her with a piercing stare. “I don’t know the Fire Lord personally, but from what little I do know of him through your stories, I can tell that he’s not one easily swayed by the passing of time or the lack of certain words. You said it yourself—actions speak louder than words. I’m sure that your actions the two years you’ve been apart have said plenty to him.”

Burying her head in her hands, Katara groans miserably. “I know. And he’s told me plenty of times, too. But I really do want to tell him.” Peeking at her friend through her fingers, she bites her lip. “Zuko’s never had it easy, you know?”

At Lei’s raised brow, Katara huffs. “We both did not. But where I had Gran Gran, Dad, Sokka, and the rest of the tribe, Zuko’s only had his uncle. And so, things like affection and affirmation—they mean more to him when they’re expressed in deeds _and_ words. I want to tell him because I don’t want him to miss out on that, especially not from me.”

As Katara says the words, she’s surprised by how far she’s come in overcoming her fear. From panicking at the mere thought of saying those three words to actually wanting to say them now, time really seemed to ease everything into its own place.

Lei’s expression softens and she takes one of the younger girl’s hands in her own. “You’ll find the words in time, my dear, but not with you forcing yourself at every turn.”

Katara squeezes her hand back in gratitude. “I know. I just feel like it’s about time I told him. Two years is a long enough time to ready yourself when there was never really a doubt about how I felt and still feel for him.”

The two share a smile at that, and the tender moment is only broken by Han’s childish giggles.

Glancing up, they find that the boy has one hand clutched in his father’s, the other holding a furry little thing no longer than his arm and with an auburn coat close to his chest.

“Mama! Look what Papa and I found!”

Lei’s eyes go wide. “Is that—?”

Ping chuckles warmly and bends to kiss his wife on the cheek and belly. “Hello, my darlings. Hi, Katara.”

“It’s a fire ferret!” Han cheers before either woman can say anything else. He settles himself beside his mother as the kit stirs in its slumber to blink blearily at the women. It releases a weak twitter before pressing its snout against the boy’s tunic.

“We found her by the edge of the forest,” Ping supplies when Han offers no other explanation as to its origins.

“Oh, boys,” Lei sighs. “What if her mother comes looking for her?”

Ping shakes his head. “She was abandoned because she’s injured.” Gently reaching for the kit, the healer shows them where a huge, gruesome cut from a hunter’s trap spans its side all the way to its underbelly has rendered her weak.

Katara and Lei gasp in horror.

“Can you heal her, Miss Katara?”

The boy turns polar bear eyes up at her and she finds herself holding back a grin.

“Of course I can.”

Uncorking her water skin, she draws out the liquid and sets to work on the injured animal. The kit gives an alarmed cry when Katara starts cleaning the dried up blood and disinfecting the wound, but she quickly quiets once her flesh finishes knitting itself back together.

Discarding the dirty water, the master healer strokes the furry animal on the head and chuckles when she coos happily.

“Is she alright?” Han asks, his bottom lip wobbling in concern.

Katara smiles reassuringly. “Yes, but we should apply some salve and wrap up the wound to ensure it doesn’t get any infections as it continues to heal on its own.”

Ping ruffles his son’s hair as he nods in thanks to her. “C’mon, Han, let’s bring her inside.”

The little boy jumps up excitedly. “I want to help wrap her!”

Katara grins when an affectionate smile overtakes Lei’s features as she watches her husband and son bustle about inside the clinic.

“You have a lovely family, Lei,” she says, and means it.

“You’ll have your own someday,” the heart-warming sentiment is ruined by the devious smirk that follows it. “Don’t forget us when you give birth to the future Crown Prince or Princess, alright?”

Lei’s cackles are enough to bring her boys back out, but they’re only met with the sight of a tomato-red Katara sputtering and failing to collect herself.

* * *

_The acrid smell of burnt flesh makes Katara gag._

_It doesn’t mix well with the gaping hole growing larger and larger in her chest at what she’s just witnessed, but she has a task to complete._

_Closing her eyes briefly to get rid of the image of Zuko’s body crashing heavily on the ground, nearly lifeless, the water bender summons all her strength and anger towards securing the chains around Azula’s wrists to the water grate below them._

_The fallen princess thrashes against the restraints, screaming an incoherent litany of what Katara is sure are curses and threats against her, but she could really care less. Her heart pounds with terror and worry, only one plea on loop in her mind._

Tui and La, please let him be okay.

_Her feet pound against the ruined courtyard, her hands already flying to the water skins that sit at her hips. She swallows the lump in her throat as she nears Zuko’s unmoving body and forces the tears that threaten to spill back down. There was no time for crying now, not when the most important feat she would have to complete in her life lay before her._

Why did he jump in front of the damned lightning? Why did he have to save me?

_Finally reaching the fire bender, Katara skids to a stop and drops to her knees with enough force to bruise the delicate skin of her knees. It barely registers in her fear. Breathing heavily, she carefully turns Zuko’s body over, whimpering in revolt and fright at the sight of the bloody hole Azula’s lightning had created in the middle of his chest._

_“Kat…ara…”_

_Zuko manages to groan her name through the pain, but he only ends up coughing blood. Alarmed, Katara pushes a comforting hand through the hairs that stick to his sweaty forehead, the other bending the crimson liquid away with the flick of her hand._

_“I’m here, Zuko. You’re fine. You’ll be fine.” She puts on a weak smile even though he can’t see it all that well through his half-clenched eyes. She doesn’t really know who she’s trying to convince more—him or herself. She just knows she needs him to live._

_“’M sorry,” he sputters, more blood trickling from the corner of his lip._

_Panic begins to thrum in time to her heartbeat at the sight. On instinct, she pulls the water from her water skins and her hands make their way to the fatal wound, glowing with the bright blue of her healing abilities._

_“Why are you saying sorry? You saved me!”_

_A tired smile barely lifts his lips and he swallows heavily, eyes sliding shut. “Good.”_

Why is he closing his eyes?

_“Come on, Zuko. Open your eyes, please. Stay with me.”_

_Zuko does as she pleads, but she can tell he struggles greatly to do so._

_“Tired,” he grumbles, almost petulantly, and a hysterical chuckle pulls from her lips nonetheless._

_Feeling a thrum of resolve course through her at Zuko’s determination, she pushes her hands harder against his chest. There, she feels the depth of Azula’s ruin. She feels the way his heart stutters and struggles to continue pumping oxygen to the rest of his body, and it makes her choke, the ways in which one person could inflict pain on another—on one’s own brother._

_“I know it’s hard, but you have to fight it. You’re stronger than this.”_

_Zuko’s body refuses to cooperate with her, even as she sees him willing himself to do so. His heart slows even more, and she can feel the light slowly leaving him as he groans, barely above a whisper._

_“Want you to know. Wish we had more time.”_

_A heavy sense of dread so palpable, it almost sits on her shoulders, falls over her. He shouldn’t be saying things like that. Didn’t he know she would save him?_

_“No!” she cries, the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. “Zuko, please! I can save you.”_

Like you saved me.

_Zuko breathes as deeply as he can, and she feels the way his heart rattles delicately in his chest. Katara’s brows furrow as she continues to stitch damaged tissue and fried nerve endings together, cleaning blood and urging it towards his heart as she goes._

_Almost to herself, she murmurs, “You can’t leave me.”_

_The space between his heartbeats are even slower now, and she feels the desperation grow in the pit of her stomach._

_“I can’t do this without you. Don’t leave me, too. You promised, Zuko!”_

_Her hands begin to tremble. Why isn’t he getting better?_

_“Katara,” he whispers, quiet. Resigned._

_“No no no. I can do this. I can—”_

_“Thank you.”_

_A cry falls from her lips._

_“Don’t say that, Zuko. I don’t have spirit water, but I can still heal you. I just need more time. Hold on. Please.”_

_Zuko closes his eyes as another wave of pain courses through him. A moment later, they open, shining in the bright golden hue she’s come to love, clear and resolute for the first time._

_Katara holds her breath, knowing that what comes next is sure to be heartbreaking._

_With all the strength he has left, Zuko brings a shaking hand to cup her cheek with great difficulty. Pressing her cheek against the warmth of his skin, Katara closes her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek._

_“Zuko,” she whispers, not relenting in her work on his chest._

_The prince smiles softly._

_“Katara,” he murmurs sluggishly, but also in awe, as if her name alone was the most reverent thing in the world. “Don’t deserve you.”_

_The water bender shakes her head fervently, clutching his hand tighter. “You do. You deserve the world, Zuko.”_

_In his delirium, he chuckles. He hacks up blood again in the process, but he doesn’t even notice anymore._

_“You_ are _my world.”_

_Katara feels something like elation and grief grip her shoulders. It takes her breath away, what his words imply, but before she can respond, Zuko’s hand drops from her cheek with a sickening thud and his eyes slide closed._

_Her own widening, Katara calls for more of her element in a fit of desperation as the breath leaves her lungs again, but this time, in a less than savory manner. “No! Zuko!”_

_Furiously working at his chest, Katara growls. “You’re—not—going to—die!”_

_Willing her healing abilities to take root, she channels her energies into the water. It takes her a moment to realize that her tears have begun mingling with it, too. Feeling for his heartbeat, a broken cry tumbles past her lips when she’s met with nothing._

_“Please, no,” she cries, scrambling to cup his cheeks as the water that coats them drops to the ground. “Come back, Zuko.” The tears fall freely now, hard and fast. Quietly, she pleads, “Come back to me.”_

_When he neither stirs nor awakens, something like a howl rips from her chest and she breaks down into sobs, pulling his body towards her in a tight embrace._

_Azula’s screams have quietened and the Fire Sages have finally come out from their hiding places. The tail-end of Sozin’s comet drenches the sky in blood red, but Katara doesn’t pay any heed to any of these things. The only thing she can really take stock of at the moment is this: Zuko is gone, and he’s gone because of her._

_All the things she had been saving to say until after they win the war suddenly seem so belated now, and none of them matter anymore, now that he’s not here to hear it. She thinks of all the time they could have had together, robbed, and she wonders, not for the first time, why the Spirits loved playing games with her._

_But none of those thoughts will bring him back, and as the Fire Sages gently pull her away from him—she screams and clutches him tighter, but in the end, she lets herself be dragged away, too tired to fight anymore—the light disappears from her eyes, too._

_The lightning should have struck her instead._

* * *

“Katara, wake up!”

Jolting up from her cot, the water bender gasps for air, hands flying to her mother’s necklace in a habit of comfort. Frenzied eyes jump from shadow to shadow across the dark room, and vaguely, she feels a small hand clutch hers tightly as another warmly grips her shoulders. Yet another pair of hands run through her hair and wipe the sweat that’s collected along her hairline away. Blinking away the last of her nightmare, Katara realizes that Ping, Lei, and Han have crowded around her in worry.

Ping, whose hands squeeze her shoulders gently, look into her eyes with concern.

“Are you okay?”

Try as she might to reply, her mouth refuses to form the words.

“You were screaming for the Fire Lord in your sleep,” Lei says softly, sadly, from behind her, fingers tucking the strands of her hair into a braid.

“Why are you crying, Miss Katara?” Han’s soft voice pulls at her heartstrings and she swallows with difficulty, tears indeed falling from her eyes as she vividly recalls the way her dream had ended.

“I was too late,” she finally croaks, her free hand clutching the blanket tightly in her lap.

“Too late for what?”

“To save him.”

As soon as the words leave her lips, she tucks her chin to her chest as sobs wrack her frame anew. She knows it was just a dream, that she hadn’t been too late, that Zuko is alive and well, but it had all felt so _real_.

She’s vaguely aware of Lei shooing her husband and son away despite the latter’s protests, and a moment later, the matronly healer sits beside her and pulls her into a hug. Much like Gran Gran used to do when she was younger, Lei rubs circles into her back and hums an Earth Kingdom lullaby to help soothe her frazzled nerves.

Katara presses her damp face to the older woman’s neck, grieving what could have been had the Spirits indeed opted for a much crueler fate.

The moon is descending over the horizon by the time she quiets down. Han and Ping have gone back to sleep, but Lei keeps her company with no complaints.

Gently pulling away from her, Katara finally meets her kind gaze.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Swiping her fingers under her swollen eyes, Katara shakes her head.

“I want…” She trails off, shutting her eyes against the memory of watching the life slip out of Zuko.

 _Zuko_.

When she doesn’t continue, Lei prods. “What do you want, dear?” Her gentle voice coaxes Katara’s eyes open, and with a startling clarity, the younger woman’s breath hitches.

“I want to go home.”

“Okay,” Lei nods, lips set in a determined line, “we can get you on the next ship to the South Pole in no time. A ship should be arriving in the next town soon. You meant to leave in a few days anyway. This—”

Katara shakes her head, clutching the older woman’s hand tightly to stop her rambling.

“Not the South Pole. I want to go _home_.”

Lei cocks her head in confusion. “But Katara, the South Pole _is_ your home.”

Frustrated, Katara growls. “Yes. No. I mean—argh!” She pulls at the roots of her hair before sighing in defeat.

Beside her, Lei chuckles. “Use your words, dear.”

Despite herself, Katara laughs.

“I want to go home, Lei.” She raises a hand when she sees the woman about to interrupt her again. “I want to go home—to _Zuko_.”

* * *

Katara arrives in the Fire Nation just as the winter settles in completely.

Given the tropical state of the nation, winter here really just means a huge drop in the temperatures, but no snow. The water bender finds that she doesn’t mind. She’s had plenty of snow her whole life, anyway.

As she descends the gangplank, she takes comfort in the fact that no one really stops to mind her. She is still wrapped up in the Earth Kingdom cloak Lei had knitted for her shortly before she left Lu Hua, the blues of her homeland hidden from curious eyes.

After bringing her to the next town over where an Earth Kingdom merchant ship was about to set sail for Fire Nation shores just as Ping had said, Katara exchanged a tearful but grateful farewell with Lei and her family.

“Promise me you’ll write to us when you can,” Lei said through her tears, her arms dropping to her sides after a long embrace. Cheekily, she added, “I need to know when we’ll have to head over for a royal wedding.”

Katara laughed. “I will. And you’ll be waiting a long time, Lei.”

The woman waved a hand in the air with a mock scowl. “It will come in due time.”

Katara smiled. Wasn’t that the theme of her life these past few years?

“Come visit us when you can, alright?” Ping piped up, his own eyes glassy. The master water bender nodded as he drew her into a fatherly hug.

As she pulled away, she felt a small hand tug at her pant leg. Smiling, she bent down to meet Han’s gaze. “I’ll miss you, buddy.”

The little boy pouted, his green eyes sad. “Don’t forget me, Miss Katara.”

Overcome with affection, Katara drew him into a giant polar bear hug. “I could never forget you, not even in a thousand lifetimes.”

The journey on sea would have normally taken three weeks, but with Katara surreptitiously using her bending to urge them along quicker, they reached port within a week and a half. If the captain and his crew were confused by it, none of them complained. They were just happy to dock before the worst of the winter could catch up to them.

Looking around at the familiar pier of Caldera City, Katara takes a deep breath and feels something in her settle into place. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the Fire Nation’s vibrant sights and sounds until she set her eyes on it once more. How had she ever thought the Fire Nation could be anything but beautiful?

Deciding that the time for reacquainting herself with the city would have to wait, she makes her way towards the royal palace. She’s not even halfway through the pier when two royal guards approach her and bow at the waist.

Flushing to the roots of her hair at the onlookers’ curious gazes at the sudden display of reverence, she clears her throat.

“Lady Katara,” one of the men greets, “welcome back to the Fire Nation. We apologize for the lack of a welcoming party, as we were not expecting your arrival.”

Katara fidgets with her pack on her shoulders but waves a hand in the air.

“It was a spontaneous trip—?” she supplies, the end of her reply lifting into a question. She hates how she feels like a schoolgirl caught sneaking out of class.

To her surprise, both guards exchange a quiet laugh.

“Please allow us to escort you to the palace.”

Katara nods and falls into step between them.

“The Fire Lord will be happy to see you,” the guard to her right says, almost conversationally.

Heartbeat quickening at the mention of Zuko, she grins. “Does he know I’m here?”

“No, My Lady,” the one to her left replies, “The Fire Lord has been cooped up in a Council meeting since dawn.”

Frowning slightly, Katara hums. “Just as well. I’d like to surprise him.”

She doesn’t miss the way the guards try to smother their snorts.

* * *

As soon as she enters the palace, she’s met with a small group of Zuko’s most trusted staff bowing to her in greeting.

There’s Master Po, the head of the estate, an elderly man with kind eyes and a quiet laugh; Madame Qing, the head of staff, a portly woman with a severe upper lip who took some getting used to but was just her own kind of wonderful; Tung and Fei Fei, two of the more senior servants who resembled one another in their light-hearted and slightly mischievous demeanor but not in appearance; and Mizu, the personal servant Zuko had assigned to Katara during her stay in the palace.

“Hello, everyone,” Katara greets jovially, nodding in thanks to her two escorts as they bowed to take their leave. “It’s so good to see you all again.”

“It’s been a long time, no, My Lady?” Master Po’s eyes crinkle with a smile.

Katara purses her lips. “I’ve had some sight-seeing to do,” she shrugs nonchalantly.

“Healing the injured and cleaning the Earth Kingdom waters is not what I’d call sight-seeing, My Lady,” Madame Qing arches a brow pointedly.

Katara grins cheekily but does not respond.

With the tilt of Madame Qing’s head, Tung, Fei Fei, and Mizu step toward her. Tung reaches for Katara’s pack while Fei Fei opens a parasol over her head and Mizu steps behind her. Seamlessly, the small entourage begins walking deeper into the palace.

Briefly, Katara recalls her protests at being treated as such during her initial stay in the palace all those years ago. She had tried to get the servants to leave her be, deeming such frivolous assistance as unnecessary, but she had quickly learnt to humor them after a long talk with Mizu about the nuances of palace life.

_It is an honor to serve the Fire Lord and his guests—fellow peace bringers and heroes of the war, My Lady._

It still makes her uncomfortable to be doted on as such, but she’s learnt to let it go. It is one fight she’ll never win.

“Fire Lord Zuko is currently unable to welcome you personally, My Lady, as he’s in the middle of an important meeting.”

Katara hums at Master Po’s explanation. “Yes, the guards who escorted me here told me as much.”

“We have already set up your old room in the guest wing, My Lady,” Madame Qing says in continuation, “please take the time to rest while you wait for the Fire Lord. I’m sure it was a long journey.”

The water bender nods, suddenly feeling fatigue settle in her bones, as if on cue.

Once they reach her chambers, Master Po and Madame Qing bow and take their leave, promising to see her soon. After making sure that everything in the suite is to her liking, Tung and Fei Fei follow in their footsteps. As the doors close behind them, Katara turns a knowing glance at Mizu, who had become a close friend and confidante early on.

“What is this I hear about a boy, hmm?”

The young woman’s pale skin flushes a bright red.

“I can’t believe you caught wind of that, My Lady,” she deflects instead.

Katara throws her head back in laughter. “Zuko’s a closet gossip, you know.”

Mizu grins at that. “It’s good to have you back, Lady Katara.”

Sighing, Katara nods, once again feeling the odd sensation of something falling into place come over her. “It’s good to _be_ back.”

* * *

She’s pulled from her slumber by the sound of a soft voice reading aloud.

“Noren carefully lifted the mask off of her face and gasped. Could it be?”

Keeping her eyes closed for a moment longer, Katara lets it wash over her in familiar, comforting waves. Low and raspy, the voice anchors her in place just as much as it raises a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. The longing that's haunted her since she left these shores fades away. She hasn’t heard his voice in so long, but now that she has, she knows: it is the sound of home.

Sighing happily, she peels her eyes open. Turning her head to the side, her heart skips a beat before thumping erratically at the sight of Zuko lounging on the window seat, the afternoon sun streaming in behind him as he reads from a scroll in his lap giving him an ethereal glow.

_What a sight for sore eyes._

His hair has been pulled free of its top knot and is divested of his crown, and surprisingly, it’s of the length he kept during his time with the Gang. Filing the information for later questioning, she allows her eyes to rove over the rest of his body. Having discarded his mantle and formal robes, he’s left in a plain tunic and pants, his muscular, well-built frame easily highlighted by the simple attire. Amka’s necklace sits against his chest, and a flare of affection pulses in her chest. Tracing her gaze over his face, she follows the sharp edge of his jaw up to the mottled flesh of his scar. Her azure eyes fall over his focused golden ones before it drops to the slope of his nose and then to his rosy lips. Those perfect, fire bean shaped lips…

“‘It’s you,’ Noren breathes out, disbelievingly, breathlessly. ‘It’s me,’ Xiao answers with a smile, ‘I’ve come back to you.’”

The words jolt Katara out of her reverie, and with a start, she realizes that Zuko has long stopped reading from _Love Amongst the Dragons_ , his molten gaze now fixed on her face.

When their eyes finally meet, warmth suffuses every inch of her at the intensity she finds there.

“Hello, my moon.”

Speechless for a moment, Katara just holds his gaze. After all this time, she is finally here, in front of him, in his presence, and with him. Suddenly, the feeling of things falling into place makes sense.

She’s not afraid anymore.

Zuko must notice the shift in her because his eyes widen a fraction before they’re flooded with hopeful anticipation. He pulls his legs from where they stretch out on the window seat and turns to face her fully.

Feeling a restless energy begin to thrum in the base of her spine, Katara slowly stands up from the bed and closes the distance between them. Every step closer to him sends the energy growing stronger and stronger. Finally, she stands in front of him, in the space between his legs, and she reaches a hand out to cup his scarred cheek.

He presses a quick kiss to her palm before turning glowing eyes to meet hers. He looks at her like she’s an answered prayer.

“It’s me,” she quotes, the energy vibrating in cataclysmic explosion. “I’ve come back to you.”

His answering smile is more blinding and beautiful than anything she’s seen in all her travels around the world.

 _Home_ , she thinks. _Home_ , she knows.

* * *

Later, as they sit feeding the turtleducks in the garden where it all began, Katara thinks of all the days and months and years between them, the leagues and seas she’s traveled, and the many ways they’ve both changed and grown. She thinks of all the letters and gifts they’ve exchanged, the stories they’ve yet to share, and the love that’s sustained them through it all. She thinks of their friends, of his mother, of hers. She thinks of all the ways her heart has been broken and torn coming together to lead her here, to this moment, to him.

There’s much to discuss and much to reacquaint themselves with, but for now, she watches him right a turtleduckling that’s found itself on its back, and she closes her eyes to the warm breeze that blows past.

When she opens them again, he’s looking at her with all the love in the world magnified a million times over, steadfast and constant and true, and she knows:

This is why she left.

_Come back to me._

And this is why she returned.

“I love you, Zuko.”

_When you are ready._

* * *

**_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._ **

**_I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;_ **

****

**_so I love you because I know no other way_ **

**_than this: where I does not exist, nor you,_ **

**_so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,_ **

**_so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep._ **

**Author's Note:**

> title is taken from leon bridges' amazing song "river", and the poem featured is the fabulous pablo neruda's _sonnet xvii_.
> 
> thank you for reading til the end. it's 5am now where i live and i haven't slept a wink, so i'll go back and edit this later on. i wanted to write a story where katara is afraid of love bec of all she's had to suffer and endure as a young child. i hope i did it and her character justice.
> 
> again, thank you. i wasn't kidding when i said this was cathartic to write. i hope it was cathartic to read, too.


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